Excavations

I don’t know about you, but it’s been a strange and eventful start to the year at NixieMade Towers. Is it me, or is there a digging theme hereabouts…

After a three week break from aikido, I was given a surprise grading. I don’t mind admitting that I grade kicking and screaming; I’m sure I can’t do it until I’ve done it. Aikido has been a huge battle with my own mind that has gone on for years, so making it to the middle grades is a massive win. At every milestone, we are asked to dig deep…

 

Aikido Orange Belt

 

I’m told I aced it. I need to remember that.

At about the same time, our neighbour’s boiler packed up. They weren’t allowed a new one because their water pressure was low. We share a supply, and ours is fine…so the problem’s on their side of the T-piece, right? Out comes a builder, who exposes the pipework and finds (a) lead pipe with (b) a leak in it. The water board are contacted…what a mission…but they can’t cope with the idea of two problems in one piece of pipe…so when they eventually send out an assessor, they send a second one at the same time. Getting them to replace the pipe was another battle. When they did, they sent four men. Yep. Four. Then the builders found the next leak (think Italian fountain), so the entire shared pipe has been dug up and replaced. Every time we talk to somebody about this another couple of hundred quid evaporates. Man plans, God laughs. Ever feel a bit like this…

 

Adrift

 

Still, life’s a long journey, the world keeps turning, and there’s always a bigger picture. I have a bit of a thing for social history and I’ve just discovered Bernard Cornwell. I’ve worked with norse runes for a while, and when we went to the St Mary’s book sale I picked up The Last Kingdom, the first in a series about the Danish occupation of England. Loving it. I haven’t enjoyed a book so much in ages, and then a talk on local archaeology came up and my geek gene got all jiggly.

I discovered that a few streets away, ancient lead coffins were unearthed in back gardens (coins had been placed on the eyes of the dead), along with Roman mosaic pieces, pottery with a woman’s name scratched into the base of some bowls, a dog skeleton, a chisel, and brooch pins. In the centre of town, underneath a charity shop, is an old smelting site – two thousand years ago a manufacturing area thrived right on our high street. We didn’t have a local mint, yet there are a lot of locally produced coins, so it looks like there were some busy forgers. A Roman sandal was found in the bottom of a well (what happened to said Roman?); there are three wells in the area that I hadn’t known about. There are pouches of coins and jewellery buried beneath our feet, safely stowed before battles and never retrieved. There are driveways that we know cover untouched artefacts, so one day who knows what else will come to light. All I know is, every time I look out on our garden, I just wonder.

And I wonder what the next few weeks will hold for us, our little lives, as the world turns and we go on…

Have a glorious day. I’m going to eat cake in my pyjames and draw pictures and watch Buffy. When it comes to adult responsibility, this house is a zero tolerance zone right now…

 

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